


From the Comfort of Home

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, b/d
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:33:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Blair discover the ... benefits of QVC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From the Comfort of Home

## From the Comfort of Home

by Aramae and Thalasia

Disclaimers: Jim and Blair and the Sentinel concept don't belong to us, unfortunately. We're only borrowing them and we promise to send them back ... eventually. 

Spoilers: Small ones for Storm Warning. 

Warnings: A small bit of consensual bondage, but nothing serious. 

* * *

Blair Sandburg leaned against the window frame watching the rain pour from cold, gray skies and sighed in contentment. Nothing like being inside with a warm fire on a day like this. He grinned to himself and added _with a warm fire and a hot lover._ Behind him, he could hear Jim finishing up in the kitchen. Since Blair had heated the leftover stew for lunch, Jim got cleanup duty, an arrangement that suited them both. The other man walked into the living room bearing a pair of mugs and settled on the sofa. 

"Want some coffee, Chief?" he asked. 

"Sounds good." Blair turned to study the man stretched across the sofa. Taller than himself, broader, eyes blue as the early morning sky, he looked like some Greek statue come to life. Jim thumbed the TV control and began flipping channels as Blair settled next to him. 

"Whatcha looking for?" 

Jim wouldn't look at him. "Umm. Nothing." 

"I thought I was the channel surfer around here." 

"You are," Jim said. He still sounded somewhat evasive. Blair wrapped his hands around the coffee cup Jim had brought out for him and sipped cautiously at the hot liquid. Jim had put milk and sugar in it just the way he liked. Blair put the coffee back on the table and nestled against Jim as the channels flipped by. CNN. Disney. ESPN. That Jim whizzed by his favorite sports channel without a dose of athletic trivia to feed his addiction alerted Blair that his lover was on a mission. 

"Come on," Blair said, tickling Jim in the side. "Give. What are you looking for?" 

Jim wriggled under his touch. A smile lit up the corners of his mouth. "Okay, I'm caught. I'm lazy. Rucker's birthday is the weekend we go out to visit him on the island. I don't have the faintest idea of what to buy him, and I need your help." With that, Jim settled the television screen on QVC. 

A female voice extolled the virtues of ... a ceramic plate? Blair frowned at the screen. "You don't really think your cousin wants one of those, do you?" 

"No. Of course not." Jim waved one hand at the screen. "Joel said they have all kinds of stuff on here. I thought ... maybe ... something would leap out at me." 

"Oh really." Blair let the fingers of his left hand wander across Jim's chest, making him shift under the touch. "What kinds of stuff do they have?" 

"I don't know. Stuff. I hate shopping. I just thought this would be easier." 

Blair circled Jim's right nipple through the heavy cotton of his shirt. "Uh huh. You think so?" 

"Stop that." Jim twisted away. "If I don't find something we're spending the rest of the day out there in the rain shopping." 

"But it's pouring." 

"That's right." Jim glared at him, the look he always used when trying to get Blair to do something he wanted. "So just settle down, mister." 

Properly chastised, Blair relaxed back into the sofa to watch the endless parade of gaudy merchandise being hawked by a woman in a purple velour blouse. He didn't think Jim would have much luck finding anything for his cousin - from Jim's description, the man sounded like a he-man gung-ho Coast Guard loner brooding in some cabin somewhere - but the threat of rain was enough to keep him right where he was. He kept rubbing Jim's arm, though, and the Sentinel didn't seem to mind. Still, Blair couldn't help but get restless during a ten-minute spiel about smoky gauze tennis bracelets. 

"Jim?" 

"Huh?" 

"You're not falling asleep, are you?" 

"No. This is interesting." 

Interesting. Humph. Blair could think of much more interesting things, but he'd been rebuffed and threatened. Still, a lover could try ... "About the stuff they sell here?" 

"What about it?" 

"Do they sell books?" 

"I don't think so." 

"Do they sell ... men's clothing?" 

"Probably not." 

"Do they sell ... handcuffs?" 

Jim slid him a sideways glance. "That would be a big definite no." 

"Pity," Blair said, stretching out his arms, his pale and slender wrists, and gave a little fake yawn. "I wouldn't mind being handcuffed right about now." 

"Sandburg," Jim growled. 

"What?" Blair looked up at him, all innocence. 

"I warned you already." 

"Hey, I settled down. I'm just talking about the ... merchandise." 

"No talking. Just watch and try to get some ideas." 

"But how -" 

Jim put a finger over his lips briefly and then returned his attention to the screen where they'd moved on to fake diamond earrings and the joy of shopping from home. 

Blair sighed, trying to think of another ploy. No talking, no actively seducing Jim. Okay. He could do subtle. He shifted a little, worming his way under Jim's arm. The Sentinel smiled softly and accommodated him, tucking Blair up close to his side. Much better. Blair let his head rest on Jim's shoulder, easing a little closer. This was kind of nice, actually. He'd just had something a bit more active in mind for the afternoon's activities. After a moment, Jim nuzzled his head, breathing in the scent of his hair. Gotcha! Blair snuggled even more, wrapping his arm across Jim's chest. 

The diamond earrings moved on to some kind of awful silver bracelet. Blair shifted his attention from the screen and concentrated on the lines and contours of Jim's torso, hips, long legs. Sometimes, when Jim was asleep in bed beside him, Blair would stay awake for hours memorizing his shape and size. A tiny little part of him feared each day would bring the end of their relationship by bullet, bomb or some other violent act committed against his police lover. He would be home one day early from school and Simon would show up at the door, wearing an expression reserved for awful news - Blair shuddered involuntarily at the thought. 

Jim's hold tightened. "What's the matter?" 

"Nothing," Blair said. He nestled closer. 

"Are you cold?" Jim's hand reached for the afghan thrown over the side of the sofa. 

"I'm fine," Blair said. He'd wanted to distract Jim, but not this way. Not by being weak or cowardly. "Watch the TV." 

Jim didn't answer, but he continued to hold him tight. Blair concentrated on the rise and fall of Jim's chest, the comforting scents of his soap and aftershave, the faint but persistent thud of his heart. He pressed his face into Jim's chest, trying to absorb the scents, the sounds. Sometimes he wished for Sentinel senses so he could know Jim as well as his lover knew him. But those senses would be a curse, too. He loved being Jim's Guide, a role he couldn't perform if he had to deal with the overwhelming mass of input that Jim did every day. It kept him close to his Sentinel's side. 

But sometimes, late at night or when he was just feeling low, he needed something more. He wanted to know when Jim was in the room, just by hearing his heartbeat. He wanted to bury himself in his lover and never ever come out again. Blair squeezed his eyes shut. That way lay depression, and he had no real reason to feel down. He was safe and warm and loved. 

Jim shifted to look down at him. Blair could feel the slight movement even with his eyes closed. "Hey, are you okay?" 

He pasted on a smile and looked up. "Sure. Just thinking about some things." 

"What kind of things?" 

"Nothing much. Just thinking." 

Jim didn't look convinced. "Is everything okay at school?" 

"School is fine. I'm fine. Quit looking like that." 

"Like what?" 

"Worried." 

"I reserve all rights to look worried about you when the situation calls for it." 

"Ditto," Blair smiled. He twisted in Jim's arms a little so that he could lift his hand to touch his Sentinel's face. Such hard, chiseled features, so soft to touch. Such gorgeous eyes, gazing back at him with the same solemnity Blair felt. Blair moved his thumb along the line of Jim's jaw, and darted up to plant a quick kiss on his inviting lips. 

"Back to QVC," Blair said, pulling back down. 

"Screw QVC," Jim growled, and with a swift, panther-like move rolled Blair to the sofa cushions and pinned him down with his weight. Blair couldn't help but laugh as the larger man started kissing his face and neck, planting hot little nips against his sensitive and ticklish skin. 

"What about Rucker's gift?" Blair managed. 

"Forget it!" 

"I'm not going out in the rain -" Blair warned, but his next words were cut off as Jim pressed down on his lips and tried to suck all the air out of him. The kiss left him pleasantly woozy. Jim's fingers started undoing Blair's shirt, and he groaned as his hips rose up in response. 

"You started this," Jim accused. "Handcuffs! I'm surprised you didn't suggest I gag you." 

"That would be nice too," Blair said, with a wicked grin. 

"Of course, kissing wouldn't be as much fun that way." Jim said thoughtfully. 

"Umm. I suppose we could save the gag for another time." Blair arched to rub his groin against Jim's growing erection, making his lover groan. 

"What am I going to do with you?" Jim lifted him enough to pull the shirt from his shoulders and went to work on his jeans. 

"I have several suggestions." 

"I bet you do. But you're mine now, and I'll do as I please with you." 

Blair's heart sped up and a growing warmth spread through him. "Promise?" 

Jim just growled and stripped his jeans away, jerking off his Nikes as he reached Blair's feet. Naked, Blair looked up at Jim through lowered lashes. He shivered a bit at the predatory look on his lover's face. He'd asked for it now, and it would be fast and rough and oh so hot. Jim climbed off the sofa and went to the table by the door. 

"Jim?" 

"No talking." He returned bearing his police issue handcuffs, and Blair couldn't repress the shudder that went through him. Usually they used the leather cuffs or soft nylon rope. Apparently Jim wasn't in the mood to wait long enough to get their regular stuff. The heat rose almost unbearably in his groin, and he watched in delicious anticipation for Jim's next move. 

"On the floor, Sandburg," Jim ordered. 

Blair considered arguing - he _liked_ the sofa, it was soft and cushiony - but the look on Jim's face made him abandon the thought and instead scamper to the rug set in the middle of floor. He stretched out fully, goosebumps rising across his skin. Jim straddled him immediately and lifted his arms above his head. He handcuffed Blair's hands around the leg of the coffee table, leaving him helpless. 

"Just sit back and enjoy the ride," Jim ordered, his thumbs massaging each of Blair's nipples roughly and then sliding his warm hands down Blair's sides. Blair squirmed and automatically pulled at the cuffs, but of course they held solid. Jim lowered his hands to Blair's groin and began massaging him firmly, his fingers manipulating the aching flesh expertly. 

"Tell me you love this," Jim said, his cheeks flushed rosily. 

"I love this," Blair said obediently. He felt himself pulled inexorably toward the brink, dragged forward by his own sizzling, simmering flesh. His hips squirmed against the rug, although he had no conscious awareness of moving them. Beyond Jim's shoulder, a salesman started hawking cookware that swam and receded in Blair's vision. "Oh, god!" he groaned. "Jim!!" 

Jim leaned forward to claim his mouth again, sucking hungrily at his tongue, and Blair moaned under the dual stimulation. He couldn't last long this way, but he wanted to. Wanted to drag out every second of the unbearable pleasure until he exploded with it. "I'm gonna -" 

"Not yet," Jim warned as he pulled back. His hands continued their dance across Blair's flesh, dragging the sensations from him with the skill of experience, the hands of a Sentinel who knew Blair's body better than he knew it himself. 

"Please, please," Blair begged. If Jim didn't give him permission soon, it would happen anyway. He couldn't hold out. Couldn't wait for it. 

Jim leaned forward into his vision again, his eyes alight with desire. "Now!" 

Blair split in half. Part of him lay on the floor, feeling his body convulse against the rug, noting vaguely that he would have some serious rug burns from this. The other half was a grenade, shattering into a million pieces of Blair shrapnel. He thought he heard a voice shouting, thought it might be his. Then he drifted down, down into a drowsy puddle of Guide on the floor. 

When he came back to himself, into the world of solid shapes and constant sizes, he found himself still on the rug, covered with the afghan, his wrists freed. Jim sat cross-legged beside him, casually sipping the last of his now-cold coffee, watching the TV. 

"Hey, Chief," he said with a self-satisfied grin. "Do you think my cousin would like that fishing pole?" 

The End :-) 


End file.
